Flynn's Sob Story
by Void.Of.Memory
Summary: Before the lights fly up over the castle, Repunzel asks Flynn to tell her a story. But not just any story- his story. And so begins the re-telling... Rated T for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Good day merry people of Fanfiction! I promise to finish this one. Oh, and the characters belong to Disney. **

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Geez, would ya look at her? I don't if I've ever seen such perfect, innocent beauty. The princess everyone dreams about. The hair, her slim figure, those green eyes. I could loose myself in her and never worry about getting out. She's like my new-

"Eugene?"

I broke away from my thoughts to find the lady in question staring at me questioningly.

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell me a story while we wait?" She asked with the most eager of expressions.

We were waiting in the boat I had rented (read as 'stolen'). We had been here almost twenty minutes, mostly because I hated being late, and I didn't actually know when the lanterns would start to rise. It varied every year, depending on wind or something. I had thought that Rapunze**l **would be overly excited, as she was whenever she mentioned the 'floating lights', but she had been pretty quiet. She had been mostly staring out at the castle while Pascal and I had played hide and go seek.

"Why not?" I shrugged, pulling Pascal from his hiding spot on the bow of the boat. "And I win again Pascal. You really need to get more creative with your obvious hiding spots."

The chameleon stuck out his tongue at me as I tired to think of a story I could tell. The only ones I knew were pretty big downers.

"What kind of story do you want?" I asked, still fishing for any idea. "A comedy, or maybe a soap opera type? Oh, how about a poetic epic about a young man and his spoon of power?"

She giggled, which made me smile. Everything she did made me smile. She could be sitting somewhere, not doing anything except breathing and blinking, and I'd still find her fascinating.

"No." She shook her head, hesitating. Her hand quickly darted to her bangs and she brushed them back, like she did whenever she was nervous. I don't even think she was aware of it. "I was hoping, maybe, you could tell me your story."

Whoa. Where did that come from?

"I know you said it's a bit of a downer," she remember my exact wording? "But I'm still curious. Please?" She begged, her eyes widening. Even Pascal nodded.

I sighed. I hated bring my past to the present. There are just too many things I'm not proud of, and even more things that I hate myself for doing. Nobody knows my whole story, not even me to be honest, but I guess some one should know. And if I have to tell some one, I want it to be her.

"Okay, okay." I muttered. "But it's not going to be pleasant. Are you really sure you want to hear this on the most important day of your life?"

She smiled. "I know a few stories that suck, maybe we can swap after." We both chuckled, then the seriousness came out. "And yes, I'm sure." She moved closer to me, our feet almost touching. "And it will only make the day more special."

My eyes flickered up to hers. She was awful at lying, but she couldn't be serious, could she? How could knowing my whole life make her day better than it already was? Unless- no, stop it Eugene! None of that now.

I cleared my throat and swallowed. "I don't know where to begin." Images were already popping up in my head, images of things I thought I had buried a while ago.

"Then start at the beginning." She instructed, her elbows resting on her knees and her chin resting on her two open hands. "What do you remember first?"

First? Well, the first thing I can remember is...

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**Flynn, Age 6**

Light? What are these floaty things? They look like giant firebugs!

I jump out of bed and run to the window. I'm careful not to wake anyone else though, 'cause it's past everyone's bedtime, even the grown-ups', and I get in big trouble if I wake anyone up. See, I've been trying to read my book. Not any book- the Story of Flynnagin Rider! It's the bestest book in the whole world! ... At least, I think it is. I can't read yet, so I only look at the squiggly lines on the page. I'm trying to teach myself to read, because Ms. Maitren doesn't let us read books. She says they're the work of some old man named The Devil.

Oh right, the lights! So, I'm at the window. I don't know what the funny lights are, probly 'cause I'm only six, and like Bruiser says, I'm too young and dumb to know stuff. They're pretty though. I don't get to see a lot of pretty stuff here. The Orphanage is dirty and cold and it smells funny, just like Ms. Maitren, the lady who made this place. She tells people who come and take children away that she wants the home to be just like a real home, but from what I've seen through the windows in people's homes, kids don't get locked up or beaten or have their food taken away. I might only be six, what ever that means, but I'm not as dumb as Bruiser says I am.

Now the lights are pretty high up. They just look like stars. I wonder what they were for. Maybe it had something to do with the princess that got stolen away. I heard the grown-up talking about it quietly one night when I was trying to read, but suppose to be sleeping. I think they said that an old witch lady or something had taken the baby girl. But why would they do something so pretty for such an ugly event?

They've all floated away now, and the sky is just as dark as before. The moon isn't out either, which means that I have to read by the light of the candle that burns in the hallway. It's kinda dark, and my eyes hurt. I try not to think about it as I climb back into my now cold bundle of sheets. Only the big kids get real beds. Everyone else just has a palette. I wonder how long I was watching those lights? It seems like the sky is lighter to me, so it must have been a long time. I hope I don't over sleep.

"You will get up right now young man!"

A lady voice's was screaming into my ear. I open my eyes, blinking in confusion. There is no way I missed morning call- Karl would have gotten me up, he always does.

"Eugene Fitzherbert, you will get out of bed this instant or you'll be spending a week in the cellar!" The voice is still screaming. But why?

Sun light lights up the room so much I can hardly see. Wait, that's means that I did miss call! Oh no...

I scramble up, fixing my breeches and shirt. Ms. Maitren is there, tapping her foot, looking furious.

"I- I didn't mean to, I swear!" I sputter, but I know it won't make a difference.

"I don't care if you did stay in bed on purpose or not!" She snarls. The rest of the room is empty, the other boys probly downstairs eating food. Which I won't be doing for a week now. "You, Mr. Fitzherbert, are sentenced to five days in the cellar!"

She picks up my blanket, which she holds as far away from herself as her arm can reach, and my pillow.

"Please, Ms. Maitren!" I beg. Maybe she's in a good mood today or something. Maybe I can get off with just doing work. "I'll work for the rest of the week, double duties!"

She doesn't bat an eye. She can just get one of the other boys to do double duties. "Get up and follow me boy!"

I hang my head and do as I'm told. No use ever came from arguing with the directress. There's no point in bringing my book; the cellar is darker than the night. At least I have my blanket. It's cold outside, and the cellar is always colder at night. Maybe Willy left his blanket in there again. He does that sometimes, for the younger kids who get in trouble like me.

We have to go outside of The Royal Orphanage for Lost Boys and Girls. There's a big fancy sign outside, painted in bright colors. The air is so cold; I can see my breath. I stop walking, hoping she'll give me my blanket now.

"Get going boy!" The directress snaps, slapping me upside the head. "I have more important things to do than punish disobedient rats like you!"

I run forward, away from her hands. I get to the entrance of the cellar, and, because Ms. Maitren is wearing a long-sleeves dress and a shawl, I have to stand there shivering while I wait for her to catch up.

My fingers are starting to turn blue by the time I hear the clink of the keys the directress always wears at her belt. The cellar is the slightest bit warmer, and I nearly dive into it. They must have lit a fire inside the orphanage. The cellar and the kitchen share a wall, or at least, that's what Bruiser says. Ms. Maitren throws my blanket in after me, then my pillow.

"Learn a lesson for once boy, or you'll never get anywhere in life!" She screeches before slamming the door shut. Like always, I wait until I hear the click of the lock before I move. I first grab my blanket and pillow and make a small nest in the corner where both walls touch the orphanage.

Then I lie down, wrap myself up, and cry.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Bonjour! This is the second installment! Enjoy, but know that the characters and such don't belong to me! I'd like to thank everyone who's told me what they think. Keep it up Fanfic-ers. **

"You mean you didn't get anything else? At all?" Rapunzel asked quietly. She sounded astonished.

I rubbed the back of my neck, still feeling that cold. "Heh. Not if you're a six year old orphan. I don't know how other families punished their kids, but that's how it was there." Pascal, who had moved onto my knee, gently gave it a pat.

You haven't heard anything yet little guy. I though bitterly.

"Well, I think that's good." I stretched with a huge yawn. "I could really go for a nap, you know, so I don't miss the main event."

I glanced over at my audience of two. They seemed disappointed, and were giving me pleading looks.

"Come on guys..." I muttered. "It doesn't get any better."

"Please Eugene!" She begged.

I was only pretending to make a fuss. I could never say no her.

"Okay, okay." I raised my hands in mock defeat. "But I'm gonna warn you- it doesn't get much happier."

She didn't say anything. She just sat there, looking captivated.

"The next thing I remember is..."

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**Flynn, age 8.**

Today is my 8th birthday. I'm one of the few orphans here who actually know their own birthday- everyone else just celebrates it in the middle of the summer. But today, it was all about me. I didn't have to do any of my duties, there was cake and I got a gift. It was a pretty great day over all. Now, I lay on my bed, about to fall asleep. I'm playing with the small tin soldier they got me. Girls get a yarn doll, and we get a tin soldier. Most of them get stolen a few weeks after the party by Bruiser or someone. I think Kyle has all of his though. I have no idea how he keeps them all. I give mine away once I'm bored with them. No point in keeping what someone else could have.

"Hey."

I sit up slowly. I know who it is, and I've been dreading this all day. It's the group of older boys, minus Bruiser.

"Hey Lieutenant." I try and keep my voice level, but it doesn't really work. "Are you looking for me?"

They always come for you when you turn eight. I don't know of any boy who escaped them.

"Yeah." Lieutenant is eying my soldier. I wonder what I'd have to give up to make them go away. "I'm sure you know why we're here."

The five of them are surrounding me. I feel as if I'm in a trap.

"I think so." I say it like it's a question.

"Yes or no?" Lieutenant and his boys stare me down.

See, this group of older boys has always been here. Bruiser is the leader right now, but in a few more years, it might even be Lieutenant. Bruiser is sixteen, and Lieutenant is fifteen, though no one is younger than thirteen who's really in the group. I don't know what the group does, but they don't get punished as much as they should for certain things. They go out of the building a lot. They use boys like me, get us to do things for them, and tell us that we'll be in the group one day too. I don't know why anyone would want to. It seems boring. But whatever they use us for, it's dangerous. Because sometimes, boys goes to the older boys' lair in the attic. And then they don't come out.

"I don't think so Lieutenant." I mutter. "I don't want to."

Lieutenant is looking at me. The boy is tall, not like Bruiser though. He's smarter than Bruiser, and better looking. That's why Lieutenant always recruits. "You sure?" I nod. "Well, if you're sure."

He stands and I'm confused. I heard that they would hurt you if you say no. This is too easy.

"I was going to teach you to read, but it you don't want to join..." Lieutenant shrugs, leaving the end open. My heart skips a beat. Read? I still hadn't fully grasped it, though I was getting better. But having someone really teach me...? I know Lieutenant isn't lying either. He reads to us sometimes.

"Um! Wait." I grab his sleeve and he turns around. "What will I have to do?"

He smiles- he knows he's got me. "Oh, just things like passing messages, and running parcels."

It sounds simple. I'm sure I could do it.

"O-okay." I say, sealing my fate. "I'll do it."

"Splendid!" His smile is scary. "Come to the attic tomorrow. And don't forget to pick your new name!"

I nod, and they all leave. It's like it never happened. I sit for a minute, thinking of my new job. I guess I'll be passing notes to the other groups in the other wings. The Orphanage is huge- there are three other wings, each with its own director and kids. The main director isn't here most days, but he comes sometimes. I've seen him once or twice. Each wing has its own group and leader. I've never been to the other wings- I'm suddenly excited. And I'll get to pick a new name! I forgot about that. Lieutenant's name is really Lawrence, but no one knows what Bruiser's first name is. I already know what mine is going to be. Flynn. Flynn Rider.

"This will be fun." I say to myself as I lay back down for a nap, my tin soldier forgotten. "It'll be great!"

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	3. Chapter 3

**Hey hey hey. Hope you guys are enjoying this! Thanks to the people who review, favourite or read my stuff! I do appreciate it. Chracters and such belong to Disney. **

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"That doesn't sound so bad." She whispered, covering Pascal with the purple swatch of fabric we had gotten. The little guy must have fallen asleep.

"No, not really." I muttered back. "But everything else that happens to be is because of that one choice." I shrugged, feeling my eyes prickle. "I guess to me it's a lot worse than it sounds." Okay, I am definitely about to cry.

I tried to laugh it off, but she noticed anyway. She put her hand on my knee, rubbing it a bit with her thumb.

"It's okay if you want to stop Eugene." She murmured. "I don't mind."

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from thinking too much about the hand on my knee. I don't even know if the pain helped at all- thank God it was dark.

"I'll keep talking." I smiled at her, trying to let her know that I was okay. I have no clue if it worked. "You really wanted to hear this."

"You don't have to, just because I want you to." She sounded surprised, and a little pleased, that I would do something for her.

Yeah, I thought to myself, I do.

Instead, all I said was "Let's see... The next big thing was when I was almost fourteen. See, when you turned fourteen that was another milestone. A lot of the kids didn't even make it that far."

"They didn't?" She asked, sounding surprised and horrified. "Why not?"

I shrugged, trying not to look at her in the eyes. "Not enough to eat, not enough blankets, someone was always sick... Little things like that just wore everyone down. If you got to fourteen you were one of the lucky one."

"But- but it was the adults' job to keep you safe wasn't it?" She was frowning and had sat up a little bit straighter. "How could they let such little kids die like that?"

"Because no one would miss us." I murmured simply.

I heard Rapunzel's sharp intake of breath. "Eugene, how could you say that?" She whispered.

I turned and looked her in those beautiful eyes of hers. They were staring back at me with an angry sadness I had never seen before. "It's true."

"That doesn't make it any less sad."

I didn't have anything to say back to that. I had lost friends to the harsh winters or one of the many epidemics that had left too many beds empty. The thought that the orphanage ladies were there to keep us safe had never crossed my mind before. They were there to be mean, and that's it. Thinking about it now brought back the crushing emptiness I had fought for so long to escape.

"I'm sorry Eugene."

I looked up, and found she had moved closer. Our knees were touching, but she was looking away from me, over across the water. I wasn't even sure she had spoken.

"You were saying about you being almost fourteen?" She asked softly.

"Right." I cleared my throat and tried to banish the other thoughts. "Well, Lawrence had made good on his promise and had taught me to read. I don't think he told Bruiser though. I had been taking messaging jobs from the older boys, and was getting off easier on some punishments. Life seemed to be looking up for me."

"Until- until the night before I turned 14. Lawrence had asked me to come an deliver a package for him. The only difference between what this job and what I usually do was that I had to leave the orphanage for this one. I would have to sneak out a window on the second floor then climb down the side of the... Anyway, I would get in big trouble if I got caught. Well, I figured, because life wasn't going too badly right now, why not try something dangerous? So I took the job."

I was jolted out of my narrative by a small weight on my left shoulder. She had moved again, and that weight. Yeah, it was her head. Keepcalmkeepcalmkeepcalm I repeated to myself mentally. There was something- different about the way she was leaning against me. As if she was trying to touch as much of me, and as little of me, as possible. Needless to say, it was distracting.

"Sorry, what?" My voice came out higher than usual.

"What was in the package?" She laughed slightly as she repeated herself. She sounded about as nervous as I felt.

"... Have you ever heard of lime thistle?"

"I think so." I suddenly found myself not liking this as much as before- I couldn't see all the little expression she made when she was thinking. "I think my mother made me a glass of milk with the leaves in it if I couldn't sleep when I was younger."

I nodded. "That sounds right. That's what they did at the orphanage too."

"So were you delivering some lime thistle to someone?"

"Yes... And no." Pausing, I tried to think about the best way to explain what was in the package. "There is another use for lime thistle. If you take the spiky part, dry it out and crush it to powder, it becomes something- something else."

"Like what?" I could hear the frown in her voice again. I closed my eyes and sighed. I didn't want to tell her this part. This part was one I hated the most.

"It becomes a drug."

She sat up. My shoulder felt too light, off balance. "What does it do?"

"That's not important." I muttered quickly. "But what is important is that It's addictive as hell and it ruins the life of everyone and anyone who takes it."

I could feel more memories being stirred up, coming to the surface of my thoughts and exploding. They left behind everything I wanted to forget, turning this moment as black as one of them.

"Okay. But why was it at the orphanage if it was so bad then?" She must have laid her head back where it belonged. ... I mean, she put it back on my shoulder.

"Uh, well, the fact that it could made into an easy sleep aid was why it was there. I don't know who first turned the spiky part into a powder, but boys from the orphanage had always been delivering packages like the one I was suppose to deliver."

"So it wasn't out of place for me to be doing this job. I got out of the orphanage without anyone noticing and there was hardly anyone on the streets as I was walking to the rendezvous point. It was when I got there that things started to... Diverge from the plan."

"What happened?" She whispered, her breath cool against my neck. I smiled at her interruption. She sounded so serious.

"I tripped."

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**Yes, I know I'm horrible at choosing where to end chapters. Blah on you. Tell me what you think though please!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Yay for more than one chapter in a day! Stuff belongs to Disney, not me. **

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A pause.

"You- tripped..." She repeated carefully.

A single chuckle escaped at her confusion. "Yeah, I tripped over a loose stone and dropped the package." _This is where it starts_ I thought to myself. I shut my eyes tight and hoped it'd be enough. "It ripped, and some of the powder fell out. The man I was there to meet saw, and he dove to the ground. Not to help me up though. He wanted the small bits of dust that had fallen out of the rip." I sighed again. "That was the first time I saw how desperate this drug made you. It controlled your thoughts, your hunger- even your sleep. It was like a parasite, feeding off of you, doing whatever it could so that you, the host body, would take more." I could picture the scene with the old man as perfectly as if it had just happened. The purplish-blue of the sky, the horrible, fissured eyes of the old man that told of his addiction and the white of the drug, scarring the cobblestones as it lay on the street.

"If it's so horrible, then why would anyone ever take it?" Rapunzel asked, her voice so quiet.

"I don't know." I lied, my voice just as quite. There was something in the colour of the sky that made it seem offensive to speak any louder than a whisper. "But for whatever reason, people did take this stuff, and it drove them all mad, then killed them."

"That's so awful..."

"Yeah." Flashes of dark rooms and darker emotions were coursing through my head. I was getting dangerously close to a place I hadn't thought of in years. If I told any more...

"What happened after that?"

Shit.

I can't refuse her. There will never be enough will power in me to. Equally strong, though, was the desire to never think of this part of my history again. I don't know what I'd do, where I'd end up, if these events came to light. If someone else were telling her this, I'd have no problem. But if I told her then every desire, every thought, everything that happened during these moments would take over me, and I just know it would not end well. For any one.

"Eugene?"

Fuck.

"The man," I squeezed my eyes tighter. "Yelled at me for being so clumsy and took the package. He gave me money in return for the powder, and ran back down some alleyways. I wasn't hurt, so I made my way back to the orphanage fine. It was only when I got there that I noticed my hands were dirty, but I couldn't tell with what in the dark. I know I meant to wash them off, but I was thirsty too." My head bent down of its own accord and I opened my eyes to the bottom of the boat. For a moment I thought I could see bits of the white powder on the wood. When I touched one though, it was just water drops reflecting light from the castle. "So I used my hands to get some water out of a bucket in the kitchen."

I felt her body stiffen. Heh, I guess she figured it out.

"I remember thinking that the water was oddly sour and bitter." My voice was starting to shake. And here I was, thinking that I would be able to tell her this story without an issue. How stupid of me. I let out a wavering breath. "Lime thistle doesn't taste very good mixed with water."

Silence. I guess there was nothing to say to something like that. What is there to say? You can't say "I'm sorry" for something that was because of my own stupidity, saying "You're an idiot" would be stating the obvious and telling me that it wasn't my fault would be a lie.

"Oh Eugene!" She sobbed and flung her arms around me, pulling me in tight.

Well, you could always say that.

"I'm a complete idiot, I know." I muttered.

She didn't say anything back. I couldn't tell if she was crying or not. The silence enclosed us, making it hard for me to breath. Or maybe that was just Rapunzel.

"Uh, sweetheart, can't really breath here." I gasped.

"Oh!" She let go so fast you woulda thought I had burned her. She brushed her bangs behind her ears, but they fell into her face again almost immediately. "Sorry." She laughed nervously. "Are you okay?"

"I'm going to have bruises there." I chuckled, "But I'm fine."

"You don't have to keep telling me your story." She murmured after a moment. "If you don't want to I mean."

_But I do want to._ I thought to myself. _I don't know if I'll ever have another chance._

"I'll stop if you want me to. It's not what you'd call a fairy tale."

"No no!" She shook her head and smiled shyly. "I do want to hear the rest!"

"Your wish is my command!" I tried to sound as excited as possible. There was no need for her to see the toll this was taking on me. "Now, what should I tell you next?" I turned out to the water to find inspiration. What could I tell her that wouldn't send me crashing and burning?

"Um, Eugene?"

"Yes, my devoted listener?" Something in her voice made me turn back.

Whoa, she was really close to me now. I could see the surprised look on my face reflected in her eyes- she was that close. I caught her scent and tried to hold myself steady. She leaned in even closer. Was she- a quick peck to the cheek, and she was leaning away again.

"Thank you."

"For what?" I was slightly dizzy. Her lips was like the finest silk on my cheek. When was the last time that I had properly shaved?

"For telling me this. It can't be easy for you."

"You- you're welcome then. But shouldn't I be thanking you?"

"For what?" She giggled.

"For listening."

Her face softened and I nearly melted. How did she not notice the effect she had on me? I mean, come on! I was practically swooning over here!

"You're welcome Eugene Fitzherbert." And she smiled that smile that made the stars go dull and my mind go blank. Let's hope it wasn't too blank to remember it forever.

"Now, it's story time again." _Here we go_ I thought. _After this, there's no turning back._

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**After this it get's a bit darker, letting ya know. Tell me what your thoughts are about this one!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Remember me? Yeah, it's been a while... I"ll try to update more frequently! Anyways, these characters don't belong to me. Happy reading!**

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Flynn, age 16 minus a day

My head is pounding and I feel like I'm going to puke. I don't think I've ever been so scared. I raise my first and give the door three quick knocks before standing back.

"Come in." The voice from inside the room snarls.

Swallowing my fear, I open the door and step inside. The room was stifling- a fire burning in the large fireplace even though there's only frost at nights. Ms. Maitren, seated at her large desk, doesn't look up from her work. I have no idea what she's writing on those official looking papers, but it terrifies me. I'm trying not to shift around too much but the heat is getting to me- suddenly I feel trapped.

"Eugene."

When she says my name, I nearly jump. Partly because I haven't heard that name in more than 4 years and partly because I wasn't expecting her to sound so... Nice. I didn't think it was possible for the witch to show compassion.

I clear my throat. "It's Flynn."

That makes her look up. "Pardon me?"

I swallow, hoping that my voice won't squeak. "I go by Flynn." It does.

She gives a weak smile and takes off her spectacles. She suddenly looks so much younger. "Yes, I heard about that. The name suits you at least. But to me, in here, you are Eugene. Is that clear?" She barks the last part, the almost motherly tone gone in an instant.

I snap to attention. "Yes Ma'am." I mutter. I hate when people call me Eugene.

"Now, as you know, you're turning 16 tomorrow."

I nod. The fear washes over me in a wave.

"As such, you must leave the orphanage and find work."

I swallow; trying not to shudder at the stories some kids have come back with. The orphanage is bound by law to help all the kids who make it to 16 find work and a place to eat. It may sound flawless but there have too many times where the kids weren't making enough to survive and had to turn to darker pursuits. Lieutenant, who left last year, turned to the Grafters, the adult half of the group we worked with to deliver Lyme thistle powder. Bruiser, after coming back once to tell us he was going to do armed robbery, hasn't been heard from since.

She stands up from her desk holds up two scrolls. "As you can see, I have two different forms here. One," She shakes the one in her left hand," Says you were a wonderful child and recommends you to the Apprenticeship Union."

I gasp. That is the highest of all the honors. With an entrance letter to the Union, you are promised a job and a good one at that. I have always liked working with my hands and to work as carpenter or a stone mason for my life would almost be a dream come true.

"In my other hand, I have a letter condemning you to life as a Nobel's servant."

"What?" I whisper, horrified. "Why do you have both?"

"Because Eugene," Her voice became motherly again. Fear, different from the one I had been feeling before, runs like electricity through my arms and down my leg, setting my fingers tingling. "You have a choice. You can choose which future you want."

"There's a catch, there has to be." I blurt. I know she would never give away something for free.

"Very good." She purrs. Putting the two letters back on the desk, she comes around to stand in front of me. I can smell a light perfume, like dying flowers and the musty scent of old clothes. I try to take a step back, but she grabs my wrist.

"What do you want?" I ask slowly. I think I know, but I hope I'm wrong.

She doesn't answer, simply grabs my chin and tilts it upward slightly. I had never noticed, but she isn't as old as she looks. The creases in her face seem more caused by stress than age.

"You certainly have an appealing face Eugene." She mutters, her grip tightening.

I say nothing. I heard rumors of this, but everyone dismissed them out of sheer ridiculousness. Apparently, they weren't so impossible after all. I lock my gaze onto the paper on her desk.

"Look at me." She hisses and I know I don't have a choice. This in exchange for a life I've always wanted. It could be worse, I repeat in my head, It could be worse.

I rip my gaze off the desk and look her in the eyes. They're brown, plain and simple, shimmering with desire.

"Now," She murmurs in the softest voice I've ever heard, "Convince me you want it."

I take a shuttering breath. And go for it.

Her lips are like sandpaper, tasting like dust and the smell of dried roses. They move in unison to mine, though I barely have any pressure on them. I'm not sure how much she wants, the distance she wants to go, but I hope this is enough.

Then I hear it. The small, disappointed tsk that every kid knows here. Everyone know that if you hear it, you'd better smarten up or else. I shutter for a moment, but the desire to fulfill my dreams are too strong. I slowly raise my hand to the back of her neck and pull her in closer. I lock eyes with her and I know she won't let me leave until she's satisfied.

Do it! I scream to myself. Just do it and you'll never have to do anything like this again!

My lips crush against hers, almost against my will. I try to seem as desperate for her as she is for me. I press my tongue against her mouth and it opens to the pressure. She's missing a tooth. The fact revolts me more than it should, but I shove away the disgust and force myself to keep going.

The time until she leans back goes by fast. I just hope I can forget it just as quickly.

"Well Eugene." She's out of breath slightly and her face is flushed. "I think I'm almost convinced."

Almost. I repress a shutter. What do you want me to do? I scream in my head. I know I have done some things I'm not proud of, but this is fast becoming unbearable. It's the look in her eyes, that confidence and raging desire that is so contrary to how Ms. Maitren had always been before.

"Well?" She asks, placing her hand on my chest. "Are you going to- "

I cut her off with another kiss. Her hand slides down my front, until it's on my belt. My hands stay on her neck. The thought of putting them anywhere else paralyzes me. Her hand drops lower.

That's it. I spin us around and slam her into the door. It wasn't what I meant to do, but she gives out a moan and moves her hand. I relax and lean away.

"Alright Eugene." She gasps for air, "You'll have your apprenticeship. Now go!"

I am all too happy to oblige. Rushing out that room is the only thing on my mind, other than getting to the showers. I don't care if the water will be freezing cold, I just want to scrub off any mention of her touch.

It's not until after my lips are blue and I can't feel my fingers that I comprehend my prize. I will never have to worry about work, I won't be plagued by poverty. I will love my job and even rise to a good standing.

"It was worth it." I murmur to myself.

"Was it?" Rupunzale asked quietly.

I immediately regretted telling her this chapter of my history. There was no need for her to hear about that, though it does play into what happens next.

"No." I sighed. "Nothing really worked out, as you can see. If it had, I wouldn't be talking you right now. I'd have my own masonry, maybe even a family."

That's the part that gets me. How my life took such a drastic flip. I can't ever tell where the flip took place, which choice it was that turned me into a high profile thief instead of a skilled stone mason but I know it was around this time.

"Eugene?" She whispered and grabbed my hand, lacing her fingers into mine.

Whoa, what is she doing?

"For what it's worth, I'm glad you're here with me."

The world stopped for a sec there, I'm sure of it. A moment has never been so perfect, a girl never so beautiful, the sky so dark, as this. I gave her hand a squeeze and smile as much as I can without looking like the love-struck fool I am.

"Then that does make it worth it." I managed to only stumble once. And by the look in her eyes, she doesn't care about my stuttering. "That makes everything worth it."

Her breath hitched and I could feel her heart beat through her hand- it was going to fast, it was more of a hum. She turned away, though she didn't let go of my hand.

We were both silent for a bit. I think she was freaked out by what was happening. I still am.

"What happened after that?" Rupunzale asked. She sounded like she was about to cry.

Pick something light you idiot. I repeated the phrase in my head as I tried to find a time when my life wasn't tragic.

" Ah-ha! Got it!" I grinned and gave her hand another squeeze. "Get ready!"

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**What did you think? Feed back appreciated!**


	6. Chapter 6

**'Ello 'ello 'ello! Not bad on the update time, huh? ... I'll keep working on it to be faster though. Anyway, enjoy! Much of this doesn't belong to me. **

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Flynn, age 16, plus three months

It's that time of night when everyone's asleep, when you don't know whether to say morning or night. When the guards do their rounds half asleep and the shadows are deep enough to hide in. Perfect for pranks on the other Apprenticeship Houses.

"Flynn, do you have the glue?" Brock hisses from across the street. He's almost too big to be hidden by the shadow of the fruit stand he's crouching in, but as always, he makes it work.

"Of course I do!" I whisper back. I pat the pouch on my hip. "Right here!"

"Carlsworth?"

"Yes, Brock, I have the feathers." The much smaller boy is behind me, his squeaky voice carrying quite well through the darkness. Though the kid isn't worth much as a stone mason, he has a knack for quite a few other things.

Like pulling off the greatest pranks the Apprenticeship Houses have seen in years.

My new home in the Stone Mason's Block has been going quite well, and I can honestly say it's everything I've thought it'd be. It does get boring at time, having to memorize all the different stone and units, but at least I don't get thrown in the cellar for staying up late. I'm a lot better at it than I thought I'd be, no-where near the top though. The top, well, that'd be Brock- the kid got in from pure talent, though no one knows what he was doing before. Carlsworth is the exact opposite- lazy, unskilled and from a noble family. He would have been kicked out by now if Daddy Carlsworth weren't making such huge donations.

"Flynn, how much longer do we have to stay here?" Carlsworth whines from over my shoulder.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts and listen. The click-clack of the guard's boots were still too close for us to risk moving. "Give it another sixty count, and he'll be gone."

Carlsworth swears under his breath and begins to count. Brock doesn't say anything- he knows by now to trust what I'm doing. I've gotten us out of so many close calls, but Carlsworth refuses to think that a low-born, like me, could be right.

I finishi counting, then whistle like an owl and Brock's bulky shape shifts. He steps out into the faint moonlight, stooping over slightly; nothing can really hide him at this point, but it's a reflex for the big guy. Carlsworth and I follow him out, our bare feet making no sound on the cobble stones. We're wearing black too, and Carlsworth's blonde hair has a cap over it. If nothing else, we should get points for being thorough.

"How much further?" The noble snob whines, trailing behind.

"Hey, you're the one who came up with this idea, now you gotta follow through to the end." Brock hisses.

"Brock, I told you we shouldn't have brought him." I groan. "He's going to get us caught."

"He said if we let him come, then he would do what ever we told him to do." Brock tosses over his shoulder.

"Yeah, well right now I'm telling him to shut the hell up and get his lazy ass closer!" I mutter anxiously.

"You never told me do any of those things." The whining persists, "You could have just asked."

"I shouldn't have to tell you either of those things." I hiss, cuffing him slightly when he came into my range, "Both of them are given."

"Stop it you two." Brock smacks us each in turn. "Just keep walking and say nothing."

I turn angrily away. Brock was always in control, always stepping between the noble and I. It was nice sometimes to have someone like that, always so calm, but mostly I just got annoyed with him. Just once, I'd like to see him lose it.

That's when I hear the music. Heavy bass shutters through the stone into my shoes, in time with my pulse. There's laughter too, the sound of people having fun, but not exactly un-aided. _There must be a bar around_, I think to myself, not really caring. I spot a light, from the crack of a doorframe. The door opens as I step towards it, like it was opening for me. But no, three people step out, sound, light and smells all pouring out. My heart skips a beat when I smell the sweet-and-sour smell of lyme thistle smoke. The three people, all laughing, shut the door and lean against the side of the building. One of the two men walks away from the others slightly, and lights a cigarette. The remaining man and women simply stand there, drinks in hand, against the wall. The woman's midnight dress sparkles, and I could see almost her entire left leg from the slit in the side of her floor-length dress. It's tight everywhere, like a second, jewel-encrusted skin. Both the men are in some of the fanciest clothes I'd ever seen outside of drawings.

As I become even with them, the three of the turn to look at me. The man with the cigarette nods and the other man tips his hat, as if the both know me. The women's eyes somehow beckon me, as if the three of them were waiting for me this whole time. I look at my friends, who hadn't noticed them, but when I look back at the trio, their gazes are all still locked on me.

I tear my eyes from them, and suddenly a new sound over powers the music. Foot steps.

"Shit!" Brock hisses, just as the light of the torch comes around the corner. Carlsworth squeals then grunts, and I spin, looking for somewhere to hide but I get knocked off my feet by a huge shove instead. I land on something slightly squishy, and it takes all of my will power not to move off of it when I feel that, whatever it is, it's still warm. For a minute, I think that Brock had thrown me on a rotting corps, but when the smell of decomposing apples hits me instead, I breath a –slight- sigh of relief.

The guard walks down the alley, stopping right in front of me. I keep my breathing shallow, but still ready for myself incase I have to run. A match flares and the guard lights his cigarette, taking a few puffs before moving on. I hold still.

"Flynn…" The thing under me moans. I nearly jump out of my skin before I realize that it's just Carlsworth.

"Give it a minute." I whisper back. " I try to focus on anything but the smell.

Finally, the foot-steps fade away, and my heart starts beating again.

"That was too close." I breathe.

"You don't say." Carlsworth mutters from under me. "Think you could, of I don't know, get off me?"

"Oh yeah!" I scramble off the smaller boy, still doing my best to breath through my mouth. The putrid smell of apples had coated my tongue anyhow.

"Are you guys okay?" Brock's deep voice comes from over top of me. I look up and find him, relaxed, on top of the awning that covers the stall. He jumps down, hitting the cobble-stone with almost no sound. "That could have been bad."

"Next time," Carlsworth grumbles, "Let's not push me into the apple-fermenting stall."

I glance over at the noble kid. His front is covered in slime and bits of apple. He also stinks.

"Sorry, " Brock shoots back. "Next time, I'll let you stay in the middle of the road like a ninny and get caught." He shakes his head before Calrsworth can say anything and turns to me. "Why didn't you hear him?"

I shake my head like I don't know. Those people I had been watching, they had looked at me like I belonged with him. But that was impossible- I had never seen them before in my life. Something about them though, it called to me, I had to admit. The shadows that surrounded them, the clothes they were wearing, the way they look at me like Brock, and more importantly, Carlsworth, didn't exist; it was alluring. I look back at Brock and shake my head again, answering the question but also to try and get the image of the people out of my head. It only works for one of those reasons.

"Well just try and be more careful next time." He shrugs, then gestures with his head. "Let's keep going. We're nearly there."

We pass through the two final blocks without incident. The lock into the dorms gives way easily to my picks, as do the locks into the carving rooms. Brock whistles quietly when we see the piece of work.

A huge, nearly to scale, model of the castle, complete with miniature people on the wall. Brock and Carlsworth move around to the other side, while I lean in to the front of the castle. I creep closer to find the King, the Queen and the princess waving from a balcony.

"How odd." I murmur to myself, reaching out to touch the small figure. "She hasn't been found, so why would they put her in…?"

As soon as my finger grazes the wood, I pull it back. I half expect her to move, though she's about the size of my index finger. I touch her again, more certain this time.

The figure of the princess comes off the balcony with a snap.

I yelp, and Brock hisses at me to be quiet from the other side.

"What are you doing?" Carlsworth growls, sticking his head around the model.

"Nothing." I mutter back, snatching her from her place and putting the princess into my pocket. "This thing is almost too nice. Maybe we shouldn't."

"Nah," Brock chuckles, "We won't ruin it, they'll just have some cleaning up to do."

I shrug and pull out the glue. "Carlsworth, do you have the feathers?"

"Yep." He pulls out the bag. "Let's do this!" He adds with a wicked smile.

It took us a total of about fifteen minutes to feather the model. We kept the glue and feathers to larger things at my insistence, remembering how easily the princess had snapped off. Finally, once all the glue and feathers had been used up, Brock steps back and chuckles.

"Good work boys!" He grinned fiercely, "That'll show the Apprentices who's the real king of the pranks!"

"What happened after that?" Repunzel asked. "Did you guys get caught?"

I smiled, mostly at the way Repunzel was once again engrossed in my tale. A lot of the worry had gone from her eyes and I mentally applauded myself for remembering this rare happy event.

"No, they never caught us." I paused. 'Though the project the Masons had been working on was splattered with paint the next night."

She laughed, a tinkering of bells. "Did you do it all the time?"

"Once or twice… Or a dozen times." I smiled. "It was a bit of a tradition."

"Sounds like fun!" She sighed wistfully. "I wish I had a tradition like that."

Time seemed to slow. It was one of those moments that define the rest of your life, I could feel it. A yes or no answer, a comment said or silence held; things as simple as that could make or break your life. I recognized the feeling, and as always, I was clueless about which choice to make.

"How about we make coming on a boat ride a tradition?"

Wait, did **I** just say that?

Her beautiful eyes opened wide and she sat up a little bit straighter. Shit, what had I just done?

"Flynn, I'd-"

I held up my hand like it was no big deal. _No big deal my ass._ "It's okay, don't worry about it, never mind."

"I'd love to!" She smiled and my heart melted.

It wasn't a big smile, but it made her shine like I've never seen on any other, save one. Maybe it was the words she said, maybe it was the way the moon light lit up her eyes like stars, maybe it was the scent of the flowers in her hair that mixed with her own scent. But what ever it was, something in me flipped. If I hadn't been in love before, I was now.

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**Thoughts? Comments? Just want to rage about something? Let me know!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Just a quick note to those who have been badgering me about updates and such. **

**I can't promise this will be finished.**

**If that bothers you, go find something else to read. **

**Chapters come out when they come out. **

**That is all.**

**This belongs to Disney. I think you've all figured that out by now. **

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The feeling of falling without going anywhere staring a tingling up my spine, prickling in my chest and a flutter in my stomach. I kept my face as stoic and as calm as I possibly could, but memories were battering up against the wall in my head. I shut my eyes, figuring it might help. It didn't of course, but a guy could hope right?

"Eugene?"

My other named echoed underneath what she actually said. The name tension was there, this time and the first time. The same girlish worry, though for different reasons. A set of recollections burst to the surface and I knew they'd swamp me if I didn't do anything. I opened by eyes, hoping the sight of Pascal sleeping on the side of the boat, the ripples of the lake or silhouette of the castle would help me beat back the things I couldn't forget.

Instead, Repunzel's eyes were all I could see. Normally, I'd be happy to stare at the beautiful green. But right now, they were they held the exact same expression as someone else, who I really didn't want to remember. Ever.

Too late of course: the thoughts hit me like a kick from Altivo's hooves, and I was thrown back into then with just was much force. It wasn't that much to change about the situation from now to then. The location was different of course. And I had been as high as a fucking kite.

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Flynn, age 17

"Flynn?"

I turned around to see who was calling my name. My movements were was too damn slow. I hated that about this stuff some times. There was a reason it was called the 1-2 punch on the streets; you come up on it feeling like everything is impossibly slow and you feel so sluggish, but when you come down it's amazing. It's a bitch of a trade off, but at least you mostly stay sane, unlike some of the other stuff I've tried.

My eyes finally make it up to the face of the girl who's said my name. I know it's stupid, but the first think that I think when I see her gorgeous blue eyes is I love you. Maybe this stuff doesn't keep you as sane as I thought.

"Flynn?" She repeats.

I blink. I'm still thinking the same stupid thing. There's no way it's true. Love at third sight is an excuse for why a loser can't get laid. I'm in love with this other girl, so I'm not going to sleep with anyone else. Pfft, right. As if that can happen. Apparently it can, another voice in my head snaps back at me.

"What?" I get the word out of my mouth, but man did that take effort! Some people live for the 1 of a hit from the 1-2 punch, but I hate it. It has its uses, I guess, but both of those uses are stupid; you can eat a lot, which would be nice if I had food to be eating, and you can think about the same subject for more than like, two minutes. Which, to me, is boring as hell.

"What are you doing?" Cali asks. Her black hair is cut short, just passed her ears, the curls blowing in the wind. It's probably cold out, a wild idea but one that could be right- our breath comes out in clouds. I don't exactly feel temperature at the moment. She's not dressed to be outside if it's as cold as our breath fogs would indicate, and her arms are crossed across her chest.

"What are you doing?" I repeat back to her, sounding like a damn parrot when I really meant to deflect the question back at her.

"You have been here for a while." She shivers and even in my fogged up brain, I want to wrap her in my arms. "I came to check you were okay."

I give a bitter laugh. Okay? I haven't been "okay" since I was kicked out of the apprenticeship's Union. No, fuck that- since I saw those people in the doorway. I use to know the date, but small details like that have long slipped away.

"That question is pointless." I laugh again, brushing my hair off my face. The movement is clumsy and where my hands touch my hair, they tingle. The familiar buzz in my eyes, hardly there at this point, starts up and I can't keep the smile off my face.

"Yeah, a bit." She doesn't smile. "Come talk to me when you're sober again."

"That won't be for a while." I say, looking out to the horizon, where the stars and moon are firmly out. I have no idea what time it is, but I guess I've been out on the roof of this building, the club I had seen that night with Carlsworth and Brock, for almost an hour. Colours starts to bleed, the blues and blacks melting together. I take a deep breath of air- this hit is gonna be bitchin'.

"Stay safe." I hear. I turn, startled, back at Cali. I had forgotten she was there- no more concentrating on anything for a while.

That's when something strange happens.

She reaches out and touches my arm. As soon as her fingers make contact with the skin of my upper arm, the world splits. The colours go back to their proper positions, the buzzing stops and I become so aware of my body, where before it had been nothing more than a mass of tingles. Everything becomes so clear, so sharp; the cold of the air is like needles on my skin, but not the needles I'm use to. They're pin pricks, frozen shards of feeling. Why have I never...?

Then it fades. As quickly as it came, everything goes back to the way it way in a flash. I blink, wondering if it ever happened. From the corner of my eye, buzzing again, I see Cali shake her head and pull her arm back to her side. She walks away, back down stairs, the noise from the main rooms of the club exploding through the open door, then settling back into an unsettling quiet with a bang.

I stumble on the ledge, and sit there for the entire time. I have never done so little while been so high.

And for once, a single subject parades through my mind the entire hit.

Cali.

* * *

"Hey?" She asked.

I shook my head and tried to swallow. It didn't work. "Yeah? Sorry, I zoned out a bit there."

She smiled, brushing back her bangs. "I thought so. I do that a lot too."

"Yeah, I've noticed." I attempt a laugh, and I think it convinced her, it made her laugh too at least.

We sat in silence, with me trying to hide how much my hands were shaking. I hadn't thought about... Her... In so long, that the memory opens so many new doors in my head.

"Eugene?"

"Yeah?"

"You can stop, you know.." She yawned, and pulled the blanket she had been sitting on around her shoulders.

"Stop? Why would I stop?"

"Your hands are shaking." Repunzel reached out and grabbed my trembling hands in her. Both of her barley cover mine, but the shaking stops. "You don't have to finish it."

I didn't know what to do. On one hand, I was prepared to never speak of any of this again. But on the other hand, I had started- and I knew that it would be better for me if I kept going. I think it would be better any way.

"Do you want to hear the end of it?" I asked finally, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Yes. But that doesn't mean that you have to tell it!"

"Repunzel."

"Yes Eugene?"

"If you want me to, then I will."

She sighed, but settled close to me, her head on my shoulder again. "Okay." She paused. Then, in a voice almost too quiet for me to hear, said "You know I'd do anything for you too."

And when I open my mouth, it wasn't hard to speak at all.

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**Thoughts? **


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello hello. Finally found time to finish this up. There you go, for all the people wanting to know if this will be done, it is. **

**Characters and stuff, belong to Disney. **

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"...And you … love her?" Repunzel asked, as if she was testing out the word. It hurt me a bit, the fact that after all I had just told her, she didn't realize that I _had _loved her.

"Not anymore." I kept my voice as clear and as neutral as I was physically able. "There's only so many times you can be used like that my somebody before your heart shatters into a million stardust pieces."

"Is it still?" The shadows have grown so long, I can't see her face. "In pieces, I mean."

"No. Someone put it back together for me."

She starts, and I want to scream out the words I've been holding back for too long.

Instead, Cali's voice- no Cali didn't have a voice. all she had was a plead. Cali's _plead_ echoes around my skull, threatening to crack me in two.

"Please Flynn? Help me."

I don't know if they've made numbers high enough to count how often I heard that.

Every night, there was someone else who she needed to steal from. Every night there was someone else who could only be silenced while being distracted- of course, I was always the thief, always the distraction. All she had to do was ask for my help. Too long, she had supplied me with drugs. Eventually, I equated my addiction to the drug as love for her. I suppose I did love Cali when I was sober, she was kind to me and I now I held a place in her heart. But is it really love, what a stonemason feels for his chisel? Tools aren't loved, they might be appreciated, but they are not loved.

"I do owe Cali one thing though- my fame as a thief. She helped me become one of the most skilled robbers this side of St. Xavier."

"What's on the other side of St. Xavier?" I had spoken in such a pensive manner that she couldn't help but giggle.

"A whole lot of more talented thieves let me tell ya!" I smiled and held up one had. "I promise to tell you about that later."

There was a bit of a silence as Repunzel digested one of the darkest chunks of my story. It was probably the bit I was least proud of- prostitution, drugs and stealing. All things you should generally avoid when looking at making friends. (_Who are you kidding, you're not looking to make friends,_ _Eugene.)_ I know, personally, of four murders that could be solved in a second if I told the policed even a fraction of what I know. I might have committed another three, but I don't remember any more. Rather, I don't want to remember.

The silence broke when Repunzel took a deep breath in, the herald of another question. "How old were you when you…" Her voice died out, but I got the idea of what she wanted to know.

"When I got out of the drugs?" I finished.

"Yeah." She murmured, quickly ducking behind her hair. She was so cute.

"19 or so. The 3 years I was addicted don't have much space in my head. I've either forgotten on purpose or because that's one of the dozen long-term side effects of Lyme-thistle."

"I guess there isn't too much you have that's good to remember." She sighed. "As bad as my mother could be, I do have some happy memories."

My ears perk up at the mention of her rarely spoken about mother. She sounds like mom from Hell, for the little bits I have heard. I'd want to get out too if I had been locked up there for 18 years or so.

Wait… 18 years?

"Eugene?"

I interrupt my thoughts at the sound of her voice Unlike Cali's, there's not plead, no favour about to be asked of me lurking under the surface.

"Why did you stick with being a thief? Couldn't you have gone back to being a stonemason? You said you liked it."

A chuckle escapes me. "The problem lies not with me so much, as it does every body else. See, when you've been seen around the places I had been, or been with the kind of people I was with, you aren't exactly welcomed back into- well, anywhere."

"Why not? If you were still willing to work the why would there be a problem?" She spoke as if that should have been obvious.

A felt a flash of anger. Why didn't see get it? I was a criminal, a drug addict and a possible murder. "People don't want to be associated with the likes of me."

"But you-"

I had to cut her off, a reflex. I turned around as quickly as the boat would let me, and jerked up my shirt. "This is the mark for the things I've done. People aren't going to want to talk to me once they've seen all this."

I ignore her gasp of surprise. "Eugene, what happened…?"

"The captain of the watch made brands to mark criminals. Every time I was thrown into the lock up for something, I got another one." Her fingers might have been on my back, but the amount of scar tissue had long erased my ability to feel there. " All people had to do was ask, and then they'd find out what kind of person I am."

"Was."

"What?"

"Was. You're not still that person Eugene." She said softly. I think she might have been crying. "You're not."

"Maybe." I reply as softly. "But then again, maybe not."

"I believe you are Eugene." Repunzel's voice grew stronger, and she put her hand on my shoulder turning me around. " After all that you've told me, how could I not think you're a good person? You always spoke with such regret that there's no way anyone could think that you are happy with what you've done. If they could all see, and hear, what you just told me, they'd see that they've all been making a mistake- like you did." There was so much passion in her voice, so much trust in what she was saying, the boat seemed to be shaking. The sky was all black now, though Repunzel was almost glowing. "No one is perfect, and no one's life can be perfect. Some people's lives are just... a lot less perfect's than every body else's. It's not fair to you. You got thrown into such a poor existence, and you're still being punished for it."

"It was all my choice." I whispered, wishing she would see that I'm not a knight in shining armour, I'm not the hero of the story book. "I did this to myself."

"No! You didn't choose to be put in the orphanage! Most of the things you did, they were born of necessity How many other people would have made a similar choice? They judge you for things that were out of your control because it's easier than admitting to themselves that they would have done the same."

I was blown away. This whole time, I figured she would end up like every one else, if I was being honest. I hoped she would understad, but never expected it would be this much. She understands more than I do myself.

"Thank you." I can barely get the words out. Now I'm the one whose crying. "Thank you."

She pulls me in close to her, enveloping me with her scent and all that she is. A calm I haven't felt in a long, long time, settles down over my skin.

There are times when I can feel my body get geared up, ready to steal something, like those apples I had thrown to Altivo. I could have paid for them; instead, I forgot about the pain of being branded, I forgot the promises I had made to myself, the one about not stealing after finishing the job with the crown. My body took over and I couldn't do anything but sit back and hope whatever I was about to steal wasn't going to be missed.

And other times, when my insomnia was doing its all to stop me from sleeping, when I knew that if I even got a sniff of a whisper of Lyme-thistle again, I'd be back, even worse off, then where I was when I was 18.

I know I did lots wrong in my life, and though right now, I might be trying to find a better way forward, I'll never be able to get rid of my past, never be able to get those marks off my back. I am, and always will be, that person, the drop out, Cali's dog, all of that and more. But if, if, I decide to make a path that doesn't involve that, perhaps I'll be able to forgive myself for doing all of it.

_Right now._ I thought to myself, pressed into Repunzel's body, _You're making two promises right now and you're going to keep them, on the thieves' honour. _

_First promise. You're going to stop stealing. There's no point any more, nothing to gain from it. You don't need any more brands,- let's face it, there's no room on your back. All that low- born, scum-like dirt behavior that you use to do is finished, starting now. You had honour once, find it again and never let it slip away. _

_Second promise. You're going to kiss her before this night is out._

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**YAY! It's done! What did you all think? Any lose ends that obviously need to be tied up? Thanks for sticking it out with me, dear readers. Now go off and find another awesome story to read!**


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